


is there somewhere

by alovelylight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, i need more content of these idiots boning each other ok, this is pure self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 17:27:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12089838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alovelylight/pseuds/alovelylight
Summary: a collection of percy/oliver drabbles.





	1. ultraviolet

Oliver Wood had never been in love (or so he thought).

He had loved, of course; he loved his rue-eyed mother, his brash-tongue father, the exhilarating and life-affirming game of Quidditch. He liked to believe that his heart was wide enough to hold someone’s hand and kiss them in the moment, but that kind of intimacy always seemed so far-fetched.

He reasoned that all the feelings that he could get from falling in love was there in Quidditch: the clammy anticipation, the racing of heartbeats, the swooping thrills, the feeling of victory that made you feel like king of the world.

Whatever his expectations of love may be, Percy Weasley was not it. He had hands of ivory, prim and perfect; he had hair that permanently captured the firelight; he had freckles and beauty marks that turned his body into a star-filled sky. Oliver – to his own extreme annoyance – always turned into an unwilling, pining romantic whenever he’s in the same space as the redhead.

And Percy, as was his way, held such high expectations of himself that he overlooked his own beauty in the process. His beauty didn’t come through in picture-perfect moments, when their heartbeats matched or their eyes met across the room – no, it came through the clumsy clashing of teeth, laughing and tripping into bed together, head slumped against Oliver’s shoulder on the train, snogging in dimly lit corners.

Their love wasn’t perfect, not molded from the romance in storybooks, but it held all of Oliver’s hopes and dreams and softest parts. It’s the only thing that made him soar when he’s not on the Quidditch field, the only thing that made Percy completely forget rules and regulations, and to them that was more important.


	2. worthwhile fight

“We’re too different.”

Oliver sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Not _too_ different. Besides, a little variety isn’t going to kill us.”

Percy nibbled on his lower lip. “We’ll drive each other up the wall, we’ll hex each other senseless, we’ll shout ourselves hoarse –”

“And we’ll have phenomenal make-up sex,” at Percy’s exasperated look, he hastily backtracked with a sheepish grin. “Look, Perce, we’ve managed to be roommates for nearly seven years without throttling the other, I think we can manage being more. Let’s try, at least?”

“What if…” Percy uncharacteristically trailed off, grasping for words. “What if it _doesn’t_ work, and we eventually grow to resent each other, and take each other for granted, and then we don’t speak at all? Because I wouldn’t be able to bear it, Oliver.”

“Percy, I like you too much to let this go without putting in all the efforts in the world.” Hoping the other boy wouldn’t flinch from his touch, he reached across to tilt Percy’s chin up so their eyes met. “Surely you know that, or else you’re the stupidest, blindest bloke I’ve ever encountered.”

The crimson blush should clash appallingly with Percy’s red hair, but it made him look even lovelier. “You really don’t hold anything in, do you.”

“Not when it comes to things I’m passionate about,” he said softly, trailing his finger against Percy’s sharp cheekbone. “Quidditch taught me to take the dive, to go with your impulse if you want a chance at victory. My impulse is telling me to take you out and kiss you senseless.”

“You know,” Percy’s hand, so white and coldly beautiful, clasped around his, “mine is telling me the same thing.”


	3. alone time

Percy let Oliver tug him into his bedroom. Much like the latter’s side of their dorm in Hogwarts, it was washed in rays of pale to bright orange, posters of Puddlemere players posted on the walls, a line of collected snow globes on his desk, and – no doubt – stacks of gay erotica in his walk-in closet. His room was one of the many, many things that set Oliver apart from his boyfriend, but Percy had grown too used to it to not love it.

“How _ever_ do you survive?” Percy grumbled, wrinkling his nose as he stepped over a stray pair of boxers on the floor. Honestly, Oliver was such a boy.

“Focus on the positives, Perce,” he said with a smug grin, jumping onto his bed. “The room comes with me, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t let your ego go to your head,” Percy rolled his eyes and decided to settle on Oliver’s swivel chair. “I must say – I feel sorry for your mum. I bet she nags herself hoarse about,” he gestured vaguely around the room, “all this.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Oliver said. “They didn’t scare you, did they?” He sounded slightly nervous, an uncharacteristic hesitation stamped on his voice. “I mean, I know how _intense_ they are, but my mum just adores you, and even my dad –”

“No, you lumbering fool, they didn’t scare me,” Percy smiled at him, rising up to sit on Oliver’s bed. “I hope I made the cut, though.”

“Of course you did,” he scoffed. “And even if you didn’t, I’m still going to date you.”

“I never thought I’d say this, but I support that bit of rule-breaking.”

“You always break the rules when it comes to me,” there was an annoying smirk on Oliver’s lips – they both knew it was true – and Percy pecked it away.

“So,” he murmured against Oliver’s jawline, “alone at last.”

“At last,” he agreed. “Oh, I almost forgot!”

“Forgot _what_?” Percy groaned as his boyfriend pulled away to go across the room, disappear behind the connected bathroom door, and then emerged with a small bundle of wild-haired dark-blue fur in his arms. “Blue, meet Percy. Percy, meet Blue.”

“Creative name,” Percy raised his eyebrows. The cat meowed in a shrill tone. “Remind me why I have to meet your cat now, when we could be snogging instead?”

“Hush, Perce. I named her after your eyes –”

“And her fur color.”

“Well, that too,” Oliver grinned sheepishly. “She’s one of my aunt’s oldest cat’s kits, supposedly the runt of the litter, but she’s _fierce_.”

“Hmm,” Percy hummed, one hand idly scratching the back of Blue’s ears. He wetly kissed a line down Oliver’s neck, stopping to nibble at the base. “Not that I don’t appreciate your feline companion, but can we – ah –”

“Yes, yes, we can,” Oliver swallowed, an aroused flush working its way up to his neck.

Percy found himself pulled onto Oliver’s lap, the warmth of the latter clouding him like a protective shroud. “You looked beautiful in this robe, by the way,” Oliver said, tugging at the wintry-light material on Percy’s body. “But I really want to see it go.”

“Control yourself, Wood,” Percy grinned, enjoying Oliver’s pleased gasp of surprise as he pushed the other boy onto his back, promptly falling on top of him. He felt Oliver’s strong, Quidditch-prone hands navigate its way to his arse. “I hope your parents don’t walk in on us. Your mum gave me the _guest bedroom_ –”

“Once I’m done with you, you’ll be too sore to walk back there.” He smiled and adoringly kissed Percy’s nose. “Like I said, you’re no longer prim and proper when you’re with me.”

“Forget prim and proper,” Percy smirked, his hands delving beneath Oliver's shirt to lightly squeeze his ribs. “I want you.”


	4. injured (and in love)

“You’re ridiculous.”

Percy was shaking his head at him, in that exasperated yet reluctantly fond way he does. Oliver thought he looked adorable; messy strands of red hair clung to his cheeks and his eyes blinked with sleep. When Oliver woke up to find the redhead napping by Oliver’s bedside in the hospital wing, he had hardly believed his luck. Percy was concerned _about him_.

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” he grinned. He had taken a particularly destructive hit by a couple bludgers while attempting a professional move.

“Don’t gloat. Here,” Percy rummaged in his bag, then pulled out an intimidating stack of parchments, “I have your assignments and readings for this week.”

“Shit.”

“That’s the price you pay for being ballsy.”

“I did it for you, actually.”

“Excuse me?” To Oliver’s amusement, Percy blushed to the roots of his hair. “How does that compute?”

“I was trying to impress you, you numbnuts,” he attempted to nudge his shoulder against Percy’s. The other boy blushed again, to Oliver’s delight. He had never really bothered to hide his affections for Percy; they were friends, after all. Friends who stole each other’s sweaters and sometimes slept in each other’s beds.

Nevertheless, he was still surprised when Percy launched forward to pepper sweet, hot kisses all over his face. It would've looked funny to someone else, probably, but Oliver didn’t care.

“Can’t even keep your hands off me for one day,” he teased, seizing Percy’s hand to link their fingers together. It felt warm and lovely to the bone.

“Shut it, Wood,” he was smiling; he had pretty teeth. “You wanted something like this to happen since first year, didn’t you.”

“No, I wanted to roast your high-strung arse in first year. But after our first civil conversation…well, I’m a happy bloke.”


End file.
